What I Love to Do

Right now, at this moment, I'm struggling with the byproducts of stress. What that means for me is my mind is flooded with thoughts; after all, I'm a thinker -- it's one of the things I do well. It's natural for me, then, for my stress to manifest that way.

It's a problem, however, because when my mind is flooded with thoughts, all sorts of "bummer" side effects tend to follow. I have a harder-than-normal time staying focused on a task or conversation, which makes day-to-day interactions and duties feel extremely burdensome. As a result of that, I tend to withdraw, which, while intuitive to me, is highly counterproductive; for when I withdraw, I am left alone with -- you guessed it -- my roiling thoughts.

Even writing this is a chore. (Reading it might feel like a chore right now, too!)

At any rate, I'd been really amped up about some work stuff, and in the aftermath of said stuff, I found myself thinking about my goals and vision for my life; I also found myself thinking about my purpose. It was a very post-modern discussion with myself, which was both exhausting and counterproductive (my love-hate relationship with post-modern critical analysis is a different topic -- read: Pandora's Box -- altogether).

What I came here to write, then, was something simple, namely, to address the question: what do I LOVE to do?

-I love it when I find the tipping point in a conversation or train of thought, or when I bear witness to, or participate in, a breakthrough. It doesn't matter if they're big or small moments, incidentally -- I love 'em either way. This "what do I LOVE to do?" question was one such "ah-ha!" moment, for example.

-I love it when I identify a solid working metaphor that helps illuminate a problem, idea, theory, or process for myself or another person. For example, I've used baseball as a metaphor -- a vehicle, really -- for lots of problems, processes, etc. in my life. And it doesn't need to be a formal metaphor, incidentally -- it can really just be any instance of successfully and appropriately applying one set of rules and circumstances and ideas to another for the sake of illumination and furthered understanding.

-I love to manage money when I'm operating with a clear or semi-clear vision of what my goals and/or endgame are. I love it. I also love thinking about managing money, and, really, money in general. I love visualizing cash flow models; I love visualizing and dreaming up models for generating increased cash flow, and visualizing the factors and variables that detract from cash flow.

-I love achieving deeper understanding of things I find interesting.

-I love speaking to groups and crowds of people about ideas.

-I love facilitating conversations among people about pretty much anything.

-I love digging into new and unconventional ways of doing things -- I love moving past, through, and around conventional wisdom.

-I love the New York Mets. I love baseball. I love consuming information about the New York Mets and baseball.

-I love to sit and read.

-I love to listen to really good speeches, or conversations, or podcasts (hello, Radiolab!). Similarly, I love to watch really well-written, acted, and produced movies, TV shows, and theatrical productions.

-I love to listen to really good and interesting music. (Totally subjective, of course, but we're talking about me here.)

-Other things.

I think there's real value in articulating these sorts of things to oneself. To my way of thinking, they make up some of the most important "stuff" of personhood. And besides -- going through this list has been a huge boost. My mind is clear, my mood is lifted, and I'm "unstuck." Sweet.

Inspiration from the Pope

Pope Francis recently made the news with a very public act of compassion. In the course of reading about it, I encountered a series of Papal Tweets, one of which was particularly moving to me:

True power is service. The Pope must serve all people, especially the poor, the weak, the vulnerable.
— Pope Francis (@Pontifex) March 19, 2013

I was stunned by that Tweet. I still am. It's so profound in its simplicity and truth; and yet, in view of the rather lofty, almost royal nature of the Papacy itself, it is nearly incomprehensible. Put another way, the Pope is one of the most powerful people on Earth, and powerful people usually do not associate with "the poor, the weak, the vulnerable."

And yet, Pope Francis up and declared that association to be a mandate of his Office. Indeed, he declared the nature of that association to be one of servitude -- whereby he is the servant.

Wow.

I meditated on these thoughts as I took my doggie for a stroll around the neighborhood. I wondered, "What does it mean to serve? What does it mean to do for others? What does it mean to help, and to demonstrate compassion? Is it necessary for us to perform our deeds of service on a grand scale? Must our deeds of service have widespread, notorious impact, on par with a Pope's, in order to be of real value?"

To those last couple of questions, I thought, "Well, no."

The Pope literally embraced a man from whom most would shrink away in disgust or astonishment. He embraced that man as an equal and shared a moment of compassionate supplication with him.

In so doing those things, Pope Francis lifted the spirits of a person who suffers an obvious burden -- and who is likely shunned in a variety of ways because of his burden. And in so doing that, Pope Francis reminded everyone who bore witness that we are all worthy of respect, compassion, and love. 

Francis' simple embrace has resonated with so many people because of the basic fact that we all suffer. Many of our burdens are hidden, or largely invisible to others, but they are there. Each of us, I would argue, longs for unconditional acceptance, compassion, and love, even in view of our flaws; and Francis' embrace reminded us that we are very capable of giving (and receiving) such acceptance, compassion, and love.

On the most basic level, I recall that this all begins with my approach to myself: it begins with my compassion for myself in view of my own suffering. The more I treat myself with compassion, love, and self-respect, the more I emulate those qualities to others.

Be a beacon.

Thanks for reading.

Love

Implausibly, crazily, I find that I'm writing this post from a coffee shop in Boulder, Colorado. It's mid-February, and chilly, but the sun is blazing away in the sky, as it does most days here. Those things aren't necessarily remarkable in and of themselves, but for a kid from upstate New York who has spent basically all his life living in the Northeast, the change of venue -- exemplified by the blissed-out scene I just described -- has been amazing. (The Northeast is awesome, by the way; but it's good for me to be doing something different.) And so, unsurprisingly, perhaps, I find myself thinking about love.

Many people have expressed brilliant things about love in literature and the arts, but for now, I'm thinking of a few things said by one person in particular: Khalil Gibran. Are you familiar with his book, The Prophet? If not, go to a book store, buy it, and read it. I'm not kidding. It contains within it so many pearls of wisdom, and so much guidance for the intrepid life traveler; it's an invaluable resource for anyone willing to consider its content. Anyway, The Prophet has chapters, as do many books, and his section entitled, "Love," is a source of inspiration right now. (I found an excerpt of it online, here, for your reference.)

The passage should be read in its entirety to be fully appreciated, but here's a choice excerpt nevertheless:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden. 

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Naturally, those words will evoke different impressions and interpretations in each of us. The messages, however, are clear. And I want to be clear, too: as I sit here thinking about Love, I'm not only thinking about romantic love. I'm also thinking of the love we infuse into our deeds; our dreams, hopes, and goals; the words we utter; and the thoughts we think. I'm also thinking of the love we experience from the sights we see; the sounds we hear; the textures we feel; and even the very air we breathe.

Love is everywhere, both within our hearts and minds, and in the world and universe which surround us. "But wait," you might say, "I'm heartbroken and angry; I'm tired of myself, and of the pain which others inflict upon me. I'm tired of being disappointed and hurt. How can you say that love is everywhere? I don't see it. How do I find it?" 

Good question. Think on this quote by Rumi: "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

Think about the meaning of those incredible words for a moment. It may be one of the most powerful things you ever realize -- it certainly has been for me. Namely, the onus is on each of us to open our hearts to the love within and without. It is no one else's responsibility. The power, and the responsibility, are yours, and only you hold the keys to it.

And now think about the implication of Rumi's words in tandem with those of Khalil Gibran. Here's what I think: Love is the Driving Force of Life. Love is powerful and pure. Love utterly raises us up and utterly tears us down. It makes us feel as though we have everything, and it makes us feel as though we have nothing -- and that we are everything, are nothing. It's tempting, then, to build those barriers, those defense mechanisms, and those cynicisms against love. It's very tempting, because we don't want to get hurt. Sometimes, though, we must hurt in order that we may learn and grow. Sometimes we must hear the thing we don't want to hear, or experience the disappointment we don't want to experience, that we may learn and grow. If we follow love, and love hurts us, then it is our task to hurt, learn, and open ourselves right back up to love's re-entry into our hearts. It is only thus that we will proceed; moreover, if we follow those steps, we must trust that we will proceed intact, with ever-growing capacities for wisdom, understanding, compassion, acceptance, and forgiveness. It is thus that we will become ever more efficient conduits for Love.

Life, and everything that happens to us in it, is a gymnasium in which we train to become better conduits for Love. It's a process, replete with apparent highs, lows, setbacks, and progress. And it's all good, if we let it be as such.

Touchstone: "A Christmas Carol"

"There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say," returned the nephew, "Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas-time, when it has come round-apart from... the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that-as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"'

--Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol"

Whether it's Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanzaa, or another holiday you celebrate at this time of year, I hope it reminds you of the peace, love, and sense of brotherhood which dwells within us all, and unites us as a human family. For me, tonight, I am reminded that we are all connected by an unseen tapestry of love and beauty. I am honored to be part of this human family, and I am grateful to have the facility to say so. May you all have a blessed evening, and may you all enjoy this beautiful life with spirits renewed.

Speculation on a Saturday

Have you ever heard or read the assertion, "There is nothing wrong with you"? What if you really believed it to be true? Think on it.

Much of this life, for many of us, is spent looking forward to something or other. We consciously or unconsciously identify personal and/or professional goals based on what we value, and we become heavily invested in attaining those goals. Such is the nature of things, and it's good.

What if, however, we refrained from basing our concept of self-worth, or of success, on our perceived ability to identify and attain those goals? What if instead we believed we are, by nature -- by default -- fantastically wonderful, amazing creatures, worthy of total admiration, love, and respect? And what if, in realizing those things, we discovered we can give those gifts to ourselves: that we can give ourselves unconditional admiration, love, and respect?

And what if such realizations were not mutually exclusive with living an actual human life? In other words, what if none of that stuff meant we had to live our lives as cloistered, levitating monks? Or that we wouldn't be periodically disappointed, disgusted, angry, guilty, sad, frustrated, unbalanced, unstable, irrational, or hurtful?

What if, instead, the foundational self-worth I'm speculating about enabled us to discover a truer compassion, truer forgiveness, truer remorse, truer kindness, truer intelligence, truer intuition, truer serenity, and truer freedom to pursue the goals and loves of our lives?

Food for thought.

Deconstructing Extremism